chowmama
chowmama's JournalAssuming Trump did decide to flee the country
And could find a place without extradition, that would only expose him to the only foods he will tolerate, no languages 'nobody ever heard before', preferably have no minorities at all or keep the ones he needs to depend on in the back rooms, out of his sight, and coddle his pasty white diapered ass 24/7/360, what happens?
To begin with, such a place doesn't exist. Russia would love him, but only as a hostage. He'd have no other use to them by then, and the footage of him, imprisoned, off his meds, sick, starving and abused, would be very effective at causing chaos here. We'd probably have to try to get him back, if only to get him a better prison here. Putin would love this. Trump, not so much.
And, of course, he'd flee with the RNC treasury. (The part, if any, that isn't already in one of his offshore accounts. And any other money he could lay his hands on.) Who would be left holding the bag? His DIL, Lara. Wife of his son, Eric. You know, the one who showed up at his trial. She, and maybe he, would end up in federal prison for embezzlement, bank fraud, mail fraud, election fraud and I don't know how many other charges. That's exactly the thanks anybody who works for Trump can expect.
I don't know if I want to explain this to them or wait till they figure it out.
I'm a little peeved with Don Samuels
To be clear, he's been generally a good guy, worked hard for a lot of people, and I always thought I could easily vote for him if he ran against a Republican, I vote Omar because, while she had a couple missteps during her first term (as anyone would, including him; it's a learning curve), she's settled in nicely, does a good job and represents our district well.
So, we were up last night following the returns and saw Samuels give a short interview after he conceded. I didn't get to see the concession speech and will have to see if I can find it online tonight. I hope it was better than the interview.
What he said was that he'd managed to get five times the number of volunteers than he had last time and that "if they'd worked a little harder, we'd have won." Actual quote.
You don't do that. The talking points after a loss are practically boilerplate and shouldn't even have to be written down. 1) Thank your supporters and voters. 2) Thank your workers. Thank them again. Recognize publicly that they went wayyy out of their way for you for little recognition and no money. Thank them again. 3) Congratulate your opponent on a successful campaign. If it's a primary, as this was, promise to support them and the party in the months to come, while looking forward to the continued discussion on the best ways to support the party, the district and our country. 4) Vow to continue to fight for the cause. Thank you! On to November!
And you have to do all this while sounding spontaneous, original, and sincere, under bright lights and in front of cameras and microphones, at a point when you are completely exhausted and pissed as hell. This is not easy. In fact, it's damned hard. But you don't leave your workers with the message "Thanks a lot, you lazy bastards". I doubt that some of them will be back next time.
He's also been tone-deaf re: Omar. I thought the statement a few months ago that she wasn't cute enough and didn't dress pretty enough to 'get away with' the job she was doing. A) A childless cat lady would like a few words. B) Do I want him on a federal level, which is actually on the world stage if you think about it, dealing with female officials from the US and abroad?
It comes down to something I've heard mothers say. The context is usually during a chewing out about some public offense, often sandwiched between renditions of 'What is wrong with you???". The statement is some variation of "How're you gonna act when you get somewhere?"
He wants a position on the world stage and keeps interviewing (running) for the position. If I'm going to vote for him, I need some indication of how he's gonna act when he gets there. And he keeps giving it to me.
I'd still vote for him against a Republican because, well, no way in hell am I either voting Republican or staying home. But I'm not sure what it would take for me to vote for him against another Democrat. You should be able to be your authentic self without being ungracious or downright rude. If you can't, you may be in the wrong party.
Cleaning out old records
I mean, reeaalllly old records.
For background, I took over the finances over a year ago; DH was happy to let me. He hated it so badly, that he'd put off even balancing the checking account for so long that by the time he got to it (about 4 times a year), it would take days and would finally be resolved by just 'putting in a correction' for often hundreds of dollars because it was too hard to find the mistakes. He was also way more comfortable with living close to the financial edge than I am. Now, the money was going towards extra payments for the house, cards and other loans, but any emergency meant disaster and more credit card use, resulting in more bills. The accounts now get balanced twice weekly, to the penny, and it takes 15 minutes if the computer is slow to load. The only loan is the house; no cards (one for emergencies that we use once yearly to keep it active and pay off a month later). He's getting very used to having a buffer that allows for unscheduled expenses, but I don't think his philosophy has changed - he just doesn't have to think about it now. It's a lot less stressful for both of us.
But our old records are a mess. We have (had) an old full-size file cabinet stuffed to overflowing with paper. Every check stub I ever got. Accounts we haven't had in decades. I found cards I remember calling to get replacements for because we were sure they hadn't been sent to us. Many envelopes hadn't been opened at all. And all of it shot through with personal info, so I couldn't just throw it out. My checks from the late 90s contained not only my name, but my full social security number and my full bank account number. No 'last 4 digits' here. How did we all not get our identities stolen? A bonfire would have created an ecological disaster. It all had to be shredded.
Well, I'm done with the business drawer. Sorting it took several weeks, as I gave it only an hour a day and that only on days I didn't work late. (I do have other things to do.) I kept 10 years, not 7, and there's still room in the drawer. It's all organized and labeled, so everything is easy to find. I just finished shredding this morning and I'm stunned the shredder survived. I was sure it would die with about 30 pages to go, just to piss me off. My sinuses and lungs are producing things I don't want to think about - I ended up having to wear a mask.
Speaking of things that pissed me off, I wandered over to OfficeMax to get insert cards for the front of the drawers, to label what's in them. They responded to me (politely) as if I had just asked them for a fully functional buggy whip. The first guy I talked to had never heard of such a thing. The manager said that if I had the dimensions, they'd cut me the right size. Apparently, this is very old technology, but I could have pointed out to them that they do, in fact, still sell file folders. I wonder what they put them in.
Anyway, that drawer is done. 3 drawers to go. The next drawer contains manuals and the like, many for items we haven't owned for a long time. But at least none of it will have to be shredded. Should go relatively quickly.
Assuming that Clarence Thomas can't be prevented from 'gift' taking
Do we have to come at it from that direction? Some lawyer, help me out.
So, if we can't have a federal law of some kind (or an enforceable code of ethics with penalties) against federal officials and employees taking large gifts, what can we do about outlawing the offering of them?
Make it illegal to give or even offer a gift above a certain amount to the abovementioned federal guy. Make it high; say, the price of a good meal in DC at a really good restaurant. Drinks included. But let there be a cap on the amount.
Thomas' billionaire bff ain't going to jail, even a Club Fed, for anything. Certainly not for entertaining Thomas or Alito. You can't enjoy the verdict you paid for if you're not physically free to brag about it at your parties and down at the country club. The wife and kids won't be able to show their faces in society. Company stocks will plummet. They may have to reach into principal to avoid bankruptcy. The investigations may uncover all sorts of other shady dealings - offshore accounts, anyone?
The only downside I can see is that it will be contested and will, inevitably, reach the Supreme Court someday. Maybe by then, the rats will have choked on their own bile. (It is devoutly to be wished.)
DH is on a diet
To be fair, he does need to lose some serious weight - diabetes, high blood pressure, trouble walking. So, I'm totally on board with this and hope he'll stay with it. However, it does mean I have to change how I do things.
It's one of those programs that have you eating 2 main meals and 4 prepackaged snacks every day. They sell the snacks and the dieter cooks the meals. The problem is that he doesn't cook, ever, and the timing of the meals conflicts with my work schedule. So we're already tweaking it past what the program 'allows'. The daily food is going to have to be every 3 hours, not every 2.5, or I won't be cooking for him. Even so, some evenings the 2nd main meal will be delayed till I can get home and get it ready. I have to be the one to organize all this, since he won't. If he gets frustrated, bored or feels too isolated, he'll just quit. Not good for his health and did I mention this shit is expensive? To the point where if I retired and stayed home to run the program, we couldn't afford the program.
The meals are healthy enough, but could get boring fast. A sizeable chunk-o-meat - I think their emphasis on protein might be excessive, but Americans have always worried about not getting enough protein. Healthier societies than ours go more towards the Mediterranean or Asian diet, with meat used more as a side event. But, ok. Big chunk-o-meat. This is accompanied by 1.5 to 2 cups of non-starchy veg. Everything baked or simmered, minimum fat. The only refined carbs seem to be in the processed packaged snacks.
Anyway, I now have to develop recipes to keep it tasty. Mostly, he'll use a frozen dinner mid-day when I'm not home - I found one brand that comes close to requirements, even if there's not enough veg. But I'm working on coming up with better stuff to make. Plain meat and veg simmered or baked with no interest is a recipe for cheating. If I get close enough to the specifications, I'm going to call it good, as long as it tastes like something you'd want to eat if you weren't on a diet.
My DIL gave me a spiralizer once and I've never used it. Sometime this week. I'll cook tomatoes, garlic, and onions into a sauce and cook zucchini 'pasta' in it. (I hope I can get the thing to work.). There might be a whiff of olive oil involved, but that's just another tweak. A large amount of fresh basil will be involved; half at the beginning and half to just warm up in it at the end. As far as I'm concerned, that's just as much a veg as spinach or lettuce. The chunk-o-meat (a baked chicken breast leftover from today) will be heated in it as well. That should work for one meal's requirement. I just hope it's also good - if it isn't, that idea will hit the bricks so fast...
Stuffed red bell peppers - I can use lean ground beef in it, but rice or breadcrumbs is a non-starter. I have blanched cabbage shreds in the freezer, so I'll mince them up to rice-size. That won't bind, so it's gonna need some egg, which will mean a reduction in the beef amount. Probably minced green onions, too. Bake the stuffed peppers, covered, in a dish with drained pico de gallo to cook into a sauce.
I can do a stuffed eggplant with veg and ground meat and might not have to add eggs. Broiled salmon with a little berbere spice sprinkled over it. Poached eggs on a bed of cooked spinach, or shrimp the same way. Kebabs. Lots of veggies.
We've been on this a couple days and he's already had to get an emergency breakfast bar at 3AM as his glucose alarm has gone off a couple of times. So, the PM insulin is getting dropped a little. He can nap during the day, but I have to stay awake at work. They kind of insist on that.
I'm going in on this stating at the front that I'm not the Food Police. I'm buying and cooking, but what he does with it is up to him. The only place where I will go to the wall is insisting he follow the rules about drinking enough water. For six months, this is going to be pretty short on calories and ketosis is nothing to be messed with. I was in a show once where one of the leads had crash-dieted to get ready and starved her way into a gruesome kidney infection. She had kids, so when she said that childbirth was less painful, I believed her. She rehearsed for the first week sitting in the front row next to the director, just supplying her lines and making notes about everything else. She was practically in a fetal position. We're not going there.
Getting ready for the holiday
The big thing is, I'm not religious and I'm specifically not a Christian. I went through all the rituals as a kid, but it just doesn't sing to me. So, Easter and all the other events are fine for others, but not my thing. DH is less of a 'fallen-away' Catholic than a 'leapt-away' Catholic.
However, we both recognize that everything pretty well shuts down for Christian holidays. So I prepare for us to hunker down and stay home, and we might as well have a good meal. This one's close enough to the solstice and general hope of spring.
I've ordered a ham and I'm hoping for the best. This is a double-smoked ham from a good barbecue joint. We've been so disappointed in hams for some time that I've largely given up. The last one, from a supposedly good source, lost a quarter of its weight and sat in easily a cup of water after cooking; the meat was dried out and tasted of nothing but salt. But ham used to be so good that we just can't quite give up hope. This is ham's last chance. Wish me luck.
Standard veg and sides, and I'm still working to get consistently good biscuits. I'm ashamed to buy 'whomp' biscuits, in the tube, but I do sometimes. I'm inventing a dessert - I have leftover filling for a Greek filo pastry called galaktaboureko in the freezer, and some leftover filo. The filling is a kind of custard. I don't have enough for the pastry, but I got some apples and I'm going to make a kind of custard/apple strudel with the filo. Clearing up the freezer and it should be good.
And today I finished a batch of coffee liqueur. Sort of like Kahlua, but a little more chocolate and vanilla. DH likes Black Russians, and I'm not averse to putting a little of it in some hot coffee. I brought a tester up to DH this AM to ask him if it was sweet enough - he drank it and said "Oh, my God, that's good." Here's the recipe.
500ml vodka
500ml dark rum
½ pound whole coffee beans
4oz cocoa nibs (approx.1 c.)
1 vanilla bean, split open
Later:
2 ½ c white sugar
2 c water
Mix everything but the sugar and water in a large sealable jar.
Store in a cool dark place for at least 3 weeks, shaking or stirring frequently – at least several times per week.
Strain well. (Fine strainer, possibly with cheesecloth. Or sieve first, followed by fine coffee strainer.) You will have nearly 3 cups of strong, very bitter liquor. The beans are exhausted and should be thrown out.
Melt and brown 1 c sugar in a small pan, stirring constantly till it reaches a rich dark brown, but not yet burned. This is a game of chicken – go as far as you dare, but if you burn it, throw it out and start over. Carefully add 1 c water – it will spatter. Stir till the sugar and water are dissolved together into syrup. Add the rest of the sugar and the rest of the water; boil for 5 minutes or till completely dissolved. Cool and add to the rest of the ingredients to taste – usually all of it. Add more sugar yet, if not sweet enough, but shouldn’t be too sweet. Go for bittersweet, evenly balanced.
Bottle. This will make about 1.25 liters.
Big. Brown. Bat.
We had a visitor last night. It's mid-March in Minnesota. These critters should not be out and about yet.
DH has an extreme phobia about all rodents, including flying ones. That's ok, because I hate to deal with any insect life. I will if I have to, but not happily. He's also the only one in the house not vaccinated for rabies. (Vet tech, remember?) So, I got to deal with this problem.
I'm pretty sure it was a big brown, and not a juvenile. Biggest bat I've ever seen IRL. The wingspan was noticeably over 12" and we got to see a lot of it as it went whipping around the bedroom. (Why do they always go to the bedroom? It's a big house and it's not as if we have a lot of insects in there for them to eat.) I got DH, the dog and the cat out of the room and got the door closed to at least trap him there. Called a few places, but no bat control people were answering their phones. Leave a message? Are you kidding me? Like we're going to just live like this till Monday?
DH and the non-bat animals were now shut in the office. Fast Eddie the cat didn't want to be in there - he wanted to help - but I insisted. I got dressed up in what I hoped would be largely bat-proof gear - a heavy rubber hooded raincoat and winter boots. Worst case, I could just ball up and hide any exposed skin. Crawled in and got the window and storm open, giving him free access to the outdoors. By now, he was on a wall near the ceiling and at least not flying any more. And...he just stayed put. I sat on the floor and waited.
Time passed. Saturday Night Live passed - at least DH had left the TV going. The only thing that didn't pass was the damn bat. I bounced things off the wall near him. No response. It got plenty cold in there and it finally occurred to me that the cold might be making him shut down. So, I closed the furnace vent, too. It was apparent that he was going to make me actually handle him and I wanted him docile. Rabies booster, not my favorite.
I got a ladder, but really wasn't enthused about getting up there with something to put over him. So I called DH to bring me a broom and just pressed the flat part against him (him being the bat). The bat clung to it, I stuck it out the open window and shook it. Bye, bye, bat. Screw the storm, I just got the window slammed down as fast as I could.
I'm blaming climate change. I wish I thought I'd saved his life, but it's below freezing today. Even if it wasn't, there's nothing out there for him to eat; it's too early in the year.
I like bats. Damn it, this sucks!
The Biddy Song
Written for a small folk trio I was in, some time ago.
They’re calling me Biddy, but that’s not my name.
I was born Kathleen Óg Lynch in Cranny.
I came to this country to try to survive,
And I fear I’ll be lost ‘mongst so many.
To die in the workhouse or starve on the road
Our choice and our shame, we were taught.
Between the Free Market and God’s righteous wrath,
Our fate wasn’t really their fault
They said we deserved what we got.
There was death on all sides at that crossroads in Clare.
The ship that we sailed was no better.
They turned back the sick, so I tried to look strong.
The mother of exiles’ true daughter.
Half dead for the taste of clean water.
The rats came to meet us right there on the quay.
Preying on poor men and women.
If I’d wanted the job they were offering me,
I needn’t have left dear old Erin
I’d just shift to the alleys of Dublin.
I clawed my way out and I’ve fought my way up
This country’s not soft, but I’ll take it.
The things I’ve been called, Biddy’s hardly the worst.
At least there’s a chance here to make it.
And when I’ve a thirst, I can slake it.
They’re calling me Biddy, but that’s not my name.
I was born Kathleen Óg Lynch in Cranny.
I came to this country to try to survive,
And I fear I’ll be lost ‘mongst so many.
I fear I’ll be lost ‘mongst so many.
Happy St. Pat's!
Banshee's Bran Muffins
BANSHEE’S BRAN MUFFINS
Or Oatmeal
As always, see notes.
1/3 c sour cream, plus 2/3 c milk to equal 1 c liquid. Have more milk on hand.
1 c bran ‘twigs’ cereal (not flakes), first addition
1/4 c (2 oz) melted butter
1/2 c packed brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
1 scant tsp salt
1/2 c (or more) dried fruit, like dates, raisins, etc.
1 c (5 oz) unbleached flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda, sieved (Any lumps do not dissolve in liquid)
1/2 tsp cinnamon or mixed spice
1 c bran ‘twigs’ cereal, second addition.
Preheat oven to 400⁰ and grease well a 12-cup standard size muffin tin.
Mix first 7 ingredients together (including fruit) and stir well to unclump fruit and break up the twigs – they should be completely disintegrated.
Mix the dry ingredients, including 2nd cup of bran. Stir into the liquid mixture and add more liquid (milk or cold coffee) to achieve the muffin texture of slightly thick wet cement. The second addition of bran should remain whole. Portion into the muffin tin and bake for 20-25 minutes until done.
Notes: There’s a lot of wiggle room here. If you don’t have or prefer not to use whole-fat sour cream, you can substitute low-fat, fat-free or just plain yogurt. Or substitute 1 c buttermilk for the lot. At that point, you can increase the butter to 1/3 c or just make them low-fat. Now you’ve dedicated yourself to eating them before they go stale, which they will do fairly quickly. However, this isn’t exactly a hardship.
Original recipe used old-fashioned rolled oats instead of bran, 1 cup buttermilk instead of the milk/sour cream, and soaked the first cup of oats for a full hour or more before proceeding. It used 1/3 cup butter. No spice or fruit was mentioned, but both could be added.
Without the fruit, you get smaller or fewer muffins. This is ok too, but adjust the baking time if the muffins are smaller.
I like dates because the dog can’t have raisins and DH likes to share. I like mixed spice because I do some Irish, Scottish and British baking and we have it around.
Banshee was a rescue cat who’d suffered some serious physical abuse. He developed into a weird, eccentric, sweet creature in a cat suit and I miss him greatly. He only accepted a particular brand of dry cat food and would never eat anything else, so I got into the habit of leaving the baking out to cool.
Then we had a feral kitten, not yet weaned, dropped at our apartment door. Actually, she wasn’t dropped so much as thrust at us with the words “If you don’t take her, we’re putting her outside.” Then they continued their midnight move, leaving the landlord with the bill for several months rent. Also a furniture rental place, since they absconded with the goods. Nice folk.
Pooka got weaned by me and adopted by the Bansh, who allowed her to suckle (he was male) and taught her about things like play and cat box etiquette. However, she listened to nobody else and did her best to run things. Not easy when you weigh well under a pound, but major main character syndrome with sociopathic tendencies helped a lot.
As far as I can tell, one night she convinced Banshee to join her in a raid on bran muffins, cooling on the counter. She couldn’t have jumped up there, but Bansh’s kitten got whatever she wanted. I got up in the morning to every muffin on the floor with at least one bite out of each and two missing entirely. I couldn’t even scold them – it’s the one and only time I’ve ever seen two cats willingly share a litter pan.
Pooka ended up home’d at a rural house; not a farm, but lots of other cats around. I might have kept her, but by that time she’d decided DH had to die. I firmly believe she ended her days organizing the other cats into a union; I suspect her leadership owed more to Jimmy Hoffa than to Cesar Chavez.
And Banshee could never be trusted around baked goods again. He was obsessed.
Ok, let's go there. Somebody ask Trump when his father died.
How about his mother? His brother? I'm not sure he could tell you when Ivana died.
Hell, this is a man who can't remember that the Revolutionary War didn't involve airports. Or who he's running against. Or when he was president. Let alone whether there were terroristic attacks during that period, or when the pandemic happened.
And that's not even getting into what he hasn't forgotten because he never knew. The history of Pearl Harbor. How the economy affects people who aren't invested in the stock market. The meaning of most complicated words. How to behave like a human being.
So, just to be clear - I should vote against somebody who might not be able to come up with some details on the spur of the moment, but should vote for somebody who believes he's above the law, specifically plans to be a fascist dictator and has said so? Just because he's a bit younger?
Yes, Biden's old. But he has advisors whose job it is to keep him informed and he has the strength to utilize them. Trump does not. And, worst case scenario, Biden has a VP whose job it is to take over if needed, and he's made sure she's qualified to do it. Do you think Trump has the strength to do that? He's the weakest man I've ever seen. No strength, no brains, all ego with nothing to back it up.
He's not qualified. Biden is.
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Member since: Sat Apr 9, 2022, 09:43 PMNumber of posts: 460